Regret is for Fools
by Jestie Uchiha
Summary: He had been the most loved man on Earth, and now, with everyone adoring him and under his rule, he would never be as loved again. Hp/Lv One-shot


**_A/n: Don't own Harry Potter._**

**Regret is for Fools**

He had surrendered during the Final Battle only as a form of respite, a way for him to plot and gather up his strength after the last of his horcruxes had been destroyed, and his army demolished.

Perhaps Potter's infatuation had not been a new development, for instead of killing him or sending him to Azkaban, Potter decided to restrain his magic and look after him himself.

Then, it was just the two of them: The great Dark Lord, living as a muggle, with Potter to babysit him.

Voldemort had known that he would be able to get himself out of this humiliating situation eventually, but he had not expected the method to practically fall into his lap.

**TTTT**

Of course he'd noticed the looks- how could he not? Potter was pathetically expressive; the fool wore his heart on his sleeve.

Bashful glances snuck when Potter thought he wouldn't see, shy blushes caused by his mere presence, a pitiable desire to please and be noticed. The slightest acknowledgment practically made the boy beam.

Still, though, it was a surprisingly useful development, and who was Lord Voldemort to turn down such an opportunity?

**TTTT**

When he fucked the boy, it was the thought of his devastated face that spurred him on, stirring his loins as he pounded Potter into the mattress.

It would be the perfect betrayal, to kill him when he was so utterly smitten, so completely in love. He greatly anticipated the day that he would get to see Potter crushed by the truth, completely devastated by the fact that the man he loved did not love him.

Just thinking about it was enough to bring him to completion, allowing him to release with one final, harsh thrust into the body below him, Potter soon following with the cry of his filthy muggle name.

**TTTT**

Potter looked at him with such adoration it was almost painful, completely oblivious to his plans as he opened himself up completely, allowed himself to be absolutely dominated by his enemy.

His eyes shone with life and admiration every time he looked at him, the love so obvious it was sickening. Voldemort hated having to put up with it.

It made him feel too warm.

If nothing else, at least the boy was a decent fuck.

**TTTT**

Somewhere along the lines, Voldemort finally noticed what a beauty Potter was.

His body was lithe and lightly toned, and his shining verdant eyes were as untamable as his surprisingly soft hair.

Now, when he fucked the boy, he thought only of his flushed face and adoring eyes, and it was the knowledge that Potter got like that only for _him _that brought him to completion.

It was nothing more than a mere physical attraction. It was absolutely nothing to be worried about, because he was a Dark Lord, and Dark Lords did not form attachments.

If anything, it made his deception that much easier to pull off. Because that's all it was: deception.

**TTTT**

On his birthday, Har-Potter made him a cake.

He normally always awoke before the boy, but on that particular day, Potter went out of his way to wake up before him.

He'd gotten out of bed, noticing the lack of body next to him-and no, he absolutely did not find the thought of his bed being devoid of Potter as wrong- immediately. He had frowned, curious and wary- but in no way worried!- before making his way to the kitchen where he instantly picked up the scent of something sweet.

When he'd entered the kitchen, the sight that had greeted him was Harr-Potter, wearing nothing but an apron, holding out a cake in his direction. The eager smile on his face had been ridiculous.

"Everybody deserves to be acknowledged on their birthday," the boy had responded when, with half-hearted scorn, he'd asked what Potter thought he was doing. There was something about the way he said it, something sad and wistful, that gave Voldemort the impression that he'd had his own fair share of ignored birthdays, too.

For some reason, that irked Voldemort.

**TTTT**

Voldemort was surprised to find the similarities between himself and the boy. When he'd commented on it, Harry had smiled forlornly and informed him that his diary had said the same thing.

Voldemort could say nothing to that. Despite feeling only a shadow of the bitterness that had first plagued him whenever he thought of his horcruxes, it was still a sore subject for them.

They remained quiet for some time, the discussion dead between them. But it was not long before conversation picked up again. After all, they had no one to talk to but each other, and Harry was a surprisingly good conversationalist.

He liked listening to Harry, he was surprised to find.

**TTTT**

Harry's presence was no longer annoying the way it used to be. Though he would never admit it, he'd even begun to enjoy the way Harry felt against him, the way his smile lit up his face, and the way his laugh filled the room.

It felt nice to be around someone who generally enjoyed his company, who admired him yet didn't fear him, who almost equaled him in power and didn't grovel at his feet.

He must be going soft, he thought to himself when Harry managed to draw a reluctant smile from him.

That was ok, though, because there was no way it would last. In just a few short months, he would finally gain his magic back and be able to go through with his plan.

He ignored the way his stomach twisted at the thought.

**TTTT**

Not even his most vivid imaginations had been able to hold a light to the utter devastation on Harry's face when he finally followed through on his plan.

He ignored the way his heart clenched painfully, ignored the way breathing suddenly seemed difficult, and continued to jeer at Harry.

"What- you thought I loved you?" he mocked, pushing down his own pain when Harry looked at him with dead, resigned eyes, "Don't be ridiculous, you stupid boy. I was using you from the start- you were nothing but a whore!"

Harry's entire body was slumped forward, hunching as if the words were physical blows to be blocked.

It was the first time Voldemort had seen him with all the fight sucked out of him, as though he had no purpose in life. Voldemort shoved down the desire to take everything back, reminding himself that Potter was the only thing standing in his way from everything he'd ever wanted.

When he finally uttered the forbidden words, Harry just stood there, slumped and dead without even tears to show for his sorrow, not even making an effort to defend himself against the green light.

Then it was over, and his body slumped to the ground, his glazed, lifeless eyes staring at Voldemort, forever unseeing. His expression was frozen into one of broken resignation.

Voldemort felt sick looking at it, and wished that, if nothing else, Harry had still looked determined before death, wished he could have seen the fire in Harry's eyes one last time.

**TTTT**

With the death of Harry, the rest of the Wizarding World fell easily.

He brutally and efficiently climbed his way to the top, bulldozing over anyone who dared to stand in his way. Within one short year, he was the ruler of Magical Britain, with everything he could have possibly ever wanted.

People worshipped the ground he walked on, and everything he decreed became the undisputed law. There was hardly any resistance to speak of; certainly nothing he couldn't handle.

And yet, he still wasn't happy.

**TTTT**

His accomplishments felt hollow, and he couldn't help but wonder what Harry would have thought if he could see him now.

But the thought of Harry was a dangerous subject, because then the memory of his lifeless, broken eyes would plague his mind.

Even the thought of the good times pained him; remembering Harry and his selfless adoration, knowing that he'd never experience it again… he could never apologize enough.

**TTTT**

Years past, and joy never returned to him. He hadn't even known that he'd felt joy, until he'd so carelessly torn it from his own life.

He'd been wrong before- Harry hadn't stood in the way of everything he'd ever wanted, Harry _was_ everything he'd ever wanted. But, it was too late now.

He'd killed the only thing to ever truly make him happy, to ever show him love.

He'd thought love was for fools, but he was wrong. Regret was for fools, and he was the biggest fool of them all.

He had been the most loved man on Earth, and now, with everyone adoring him and under his rule, he would never be as loved again.

**Fin.**


End file.
